


Merci

by Talvenhenki



Series: Life with Hugo the Dog [2]
Category: The Musketeers (2014)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Panic Attacks, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, selective mutism, therapy dogs
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-30
Updated: 2020-09-30
Packaged: 2021-03-07 17:08:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,957
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26731141
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Talvenhenki/pseuds/Talvenhenki
Summary: Aramis, on a morning walk with his therapy dog Hugo, has a panic attack. A familiar person ends up helping him.
Relationships: Aramis | René d'Herblay & Athos | Comte de la Fère & Porthos du Vallon, Aramis | René d'Herblay/Porthos du Vallon
Series: Life with Hugo the Dog [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1945549
Comments: 13
Kudos: 24





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Looks like it is a series after all! I'm not sure if I'll make any more entries though because writing this was very difficult for me for some reason.
> 
> I hope you enjoy!

The sun hadn’t risen very far when Aramis opened the door. He liked to go out with Hugo early enough to escape the morning traffic and its noise which still sometimes affected him negatively. He liked having breakfast with Athos and Porthos after his walks – he always felt relaxed after them.

Hugo was wagging his tail as they walked down the stairs. He had adjusted well to a life with little to no verbal commands and, after the month he’d lived with Aramis and the others, he seemed happier than ever. He had been a great help for Aramis as well; Aramis had more energy and his anxiety wasn’t as disruptive to his everyday life as it had been right after the shooting.

Stepping onto the street, Hugo began to lead Aramis towards the park they frequented during their morning walks. Aramis chuckled and followed suit.

The birds had already woken up and were making sure everyone knew it. Few were flying around the trees, while the others just sat on the branches and screamed – no, _sang_ , as Porthos would say.

The weather was getting warmer as spring progressed further. Aramis was only wearing a thin coat over his clothes since he didn’t need any more winter jackets. It was like it had never been chilly in the first place. Breathing in, Aramis could smell the new flowers. Winter was just a distant memory.

Hugo pulled at his leash, shaking Aramis out of his thoughts. A squirrel ran across the path in front of them and Hugo tried to chase it, only to be stopped by Aramis.

Hugo looked up, making the sad expression he so often made at Porthos when he wasn’t getting any treats. Aramis shook his head, giving him the signal that it was no time to go chasing squirrels, no matter how much Hugo wanted it. Soon enough something else would catch his attention anyway. No matter what, Hugo was still just a puppy and puppies had their overactive needs.

Sometimes Aramis missed his voice. He knew he still had it, but there was some sort of a mental block preventing him from speaking out. He really wished he could tell Hugo how much of a good dog he was, and how grateful Aramis was for having him around. And, of course, he needed to thank Athos and Porthos as well.

Lost in his thoughts, Aramis and Hugo finally reached the edge of the park and crossed the street to go back home. There were some cars driving around already, most likely early birds driving to work.

When Aramis and Hugo had almost reached their street, a loud noise caught Aramis’ attention. Tires screeching, and then a loud _bang_ , just like a gun going off. Aramis felt his palms sweating and his heartbeat speeding up. He lost his balance as he began to hyperventilate.

Hugo pushed his muzzle close to Aramis’ face, providing some comfort that way. Fleur had been trying to teach Hugo how to react during a panic attack and it seemed like some of the lessons had stuck with him. He was doing a great job grounding Aramis, but the panic was still a bit too strong for Aramis. He simply couldn’t stop the panic attack by himself.

“Oh dear”, someone breathed a few metres away from Aramis. “Sir? Are you alright? Did something happen?”

Aramis looked up to the voice, only to see a familiar figure kneeling down next to him. She was looking at him, concerned, as he hyperventilated.

“Sir, do you need me to – _Aramis_?” the woman said. “What happened?”

Aramis closed his eyes against the tears of frustration and pressed his head against the wall behind him. Why was he still so weak, he asked himself, as the panic hit him again.

* * *

Porthos was concerned. It was 7 in the morning, and Aramis was still out with Hugo. Normally he would be back at home by 6:45, period, and then they would have breakfast together. But no, it was 7 o’ clock, and Aramis was still gone. Had something happened? Had Aramis got hurt? Had his phone died, leaving Aramis no way to communicate back home? The possibilities were endless, and it did not help Porthos at all.

“We should call the police”, Porthos mumbled for the umpteenth time. “He could be hurt and alone out there while we sit here waiting for him.”

“We should wait for another fifteen minutes”, Athos said, “he might just be using an alternative route today. If he isn’t home by quarter past, we’ll call the police. We should let him do things independently before panicking; he’s a grown man after all.”

Porthos shook his head and sighed. He _knew_ that Aramis was better, but the knowledge alone wasn’t enough to stop him from being afraid of the worst. He couldn’t lose Aramis, not after coming so close during that ski centre shooting.

“I could try texting him again”, Athos offered, knowing full well that it would be useless if Aramis was hurt.

Just as Porthos was about to start pacing again, he heard the lock at the front door open. Faster than lightning, Porthos was at the door to see it open to reveal Hugo, Aramis, and an unknown woman. Aramis was pale and shaking, which worried Porthos.

“I am so sorry for barging in like this”, the woman said as she helped Aramis inside, “but I saw Aramis out there, having a panic attack, and no one else was helping – not that there were any people. I didn’t recognise him at first, it’s been so long, but since no one was helping, I knew I had to do something. He showed me the way here, so don’t worry, I’m not a stalker or anything.”

Kicking his shoes off, Aramis leaned his trembling frame on Porthos who immediately caught him in an embrace. Athos was there too, helping Aramis take off his coat, then inviting the woman inside, and closing the front door.

“Hey there”, Porthos breathed, “what happened to you? Aramis?”

Aramis shook his head and made a sign for his notebook. Porthos grabbed it for him, and Aramis wrote some words, while his hands still shook violently.

“‘A car, a loud noise, sounded like gunfire’ – and you were there all alone”, Porthos said, pulling Aramis closer again. “I _knew_ I should be coming to these walks with you more often.”

Shaking his head, Aramis pushed himself away and made the signs for _I’m fine_ and _don’t worry_. He looked over to the unknown woman and gave her a shaky smile before leaning on Porthos again.

“I…I’m really sorry to have barged in like this”, the woman said again, “I really am. I’m Isabelle; Aramis and I were childhood friends. You must be Porthos, am I right? I’m so sorry I missed your wedding and never got to meet you back then when I had the chance.”

“It’s alright”, Porthos replied, smiling at Isabelle, “you had your reasons. How about we continue the conversation in the living room?”

Isabelle shook her head. “I really must get to work now. Could I come over later this evening, though? I’d like to see if Aramis is better by then.”

Aramis, still leaning on Porthos, nodded slowly. Porthos smiled and kissed his temple before beginning to lead Aramis to the living room. Hugo followed them, keeping close attention to Aramis.

“That sounds like a good idea”, Athos agreed. “Do you need a lift to work? I could drive you over and do some grocery shopping to give Aramis and Porthos some alone time.”

“I would really appreciate that”, Isabelle said, smiling, with relief in her voice. Aramis nodded as well, grateful to the others for not expecting to be at his best at that moment.

Athos and Isabelle left, leaving Aramis and Porthos alone. Aramis was scratching Hugo’s head absentmindedly while Porthos held his free hand. For a moment, they sat in silence, drawing strength from each other.

“I’ll go get some breakfast for us”, Porthos said softly. Aramis nodded and squeezed Porthos’ hand while still keeping most of his attention on Hugo.

Porthos was soon ready with the breakfast and he returned to Aramis who had curled up on the sofa. Porthos smiled and spread a quilt over his shoulders after setting down the breakfast tray. He then brushed Aramis’ hair off his face before offering him some tea.

“Think you’ll be okay with Athos while I’m at work?” Porthos asked when Aramis began drinking his tea. “I’ll make something nice for us to eat when I get back. Does Isabelle have any allergies?”

Aramis looked lost for a moment before signing “fish”. He then took a sandwich from the breakfast tray and began eating it.

Humming, Porthos said, “I guess I’ll do something vegetarian then. How does ratatouille with tofu sound? Or maybe some Moroccan couscous would be better…I wonder if Isabelle likes couscous.”

Aramis sighed and leaned his head on Porthos’ shoulder. He seemed exhausted – which made sense, Porthos realised, since a panic attack drained about as much energy as running a marathon would. Maybe it was good that he’d get some time to rest while Porthos was working. Athos and Hugo would look after him.

“Maybe you should take a nap when we’re done with breakfast”, Porthos suggested, “that way you’ll get some of your strength back.”

Finding that he had no energy for another answer, Aramis nodded and closed his eyes.


	2. Chapter 2

Aramis was curled up on the sofa while Porthos cooked the dinner in the kitchen. Hugo was resting on Aramis’ lap and Aramis was reading a new book. He and Athos were waiting for Isabelle who still hadn’t arrived – she was late as always. She had always been a little scatter-brained and it comforted Aramis to know that she hadn’t changed one bit.

When the doorbell eventually rang, Athos went to open the door and let Isabelle in. She had brought some Belgian chocolate – Aramis’ favourite – and was apologising profusely as always. Aramis waved at her as she entered the living room and sat on the sofa next to him.

“Hi”, she said, “how are you feeling? Any better?”

Squeezing Isabelle’s hand, Aramis nodded. He placed down his book and picked up the notepad, writing a quick note to thank Isabelle for helping him that morning. As he passed the notepad over to Isabelle, she frowned.

“Athos told me this morning that I should ask you if I wanted to know what had happened to you”, she began, trying to find the right words to convey what she was asking. “Are you comfortable sharing it? I’d like to know if there’s anything I can do to help.”

Aramis nodded and began writing on his notepad again. At times he would stop, trying to find the right word to use, or to erase something he’d already written. It took him a few minutes, but soon enough he was ready to show his explanation to Isabelle.

 _There was a shooting at a ski centre_ , the note read. _I was there. Marsac and I were the only survivors, but he slipped into coma and I developed PTSD and it’s manifesting as mutism, among other things. As of now, I’m unable to work, but I’m in line to a therapy program. Right now I have Hugo to get me through the worst._

Isabelle smiled as she finished reading the note. “Hugo is your dog, isn’t he?” she asked, looking up at the puppy who yawned at her. “How long have you had him?”

“He’s been here for about a month”, Athos said before Aramis could start writing on his notepad. “I’ve never met such a polite dog before. He’s very helpful in his own way.”

“I bet”, Isabelle agreed, “has he been trained to deal with panic attacks?”

Aramis nodded and scratched Hugo’s ear. The dog smiled at him and then decided to lick his fingers. He then decided to lie down on his back and request some belly rubs. Aramis smiled at the dog and obliged, knowing full well that Hugo deserved the relaxation.

“Do you think I could help you with your recovery?” Isabelle asked after a few moments. “I’d like to be there for you now that we’re finally in contact again. Perhaps I could – I don’t know – help you remember the fun times we had in our childhood.”

Aramis looked in her eyes and, after some careful consideration, nodded slowly. He knew it wouldn’t be easy while he was unable to speak, but he was willing to try. Perhaps going out more would help him in ways he couldn’t know yet.

After that, the evening progressed peacefully. Isabelle loved Porthos’ ratatouille and Hugo loved Isabelle. She stayed well into the evening, telling stories about the childhood she’d shared with Aramis. Occasionally Aramis would write little notes correcting some of her wildest tales, as Isabelle tended to get a little carried away sometimes.

Overall, Aramis felt happier than in weeks. He had been feeling better with Hugo around, but there had been simply too many reminders of the ski centre for him to be genuinely happy. Apparently, an old friend was all it took to get his attention away from the bad memories.

When it was time for Isabelle to leave, Aramis was standing awkwardly at the hallway, looking at her. She was pulling her coat over her shoulders and tying her shoelaces before she straightened her back, looking at Aramis once more.

“So”, she said, “you’ll text me when you feel up to going to a café or something, right? I’ll find us one that allows therapy animals in, so you won’t have to come without Hugo.”

Aramis nodded, smiling. Perhaps going out with Isabelle would help with his anxiety.

Sighing, Isabelle held out her arms. “Come here”, she said, hugging Aramis. “You’re going to be okay. Not now, and perhaps not very soon, but you’ll get there. And when you do, that’s when I’ll throw a party for you and the boys. We missed so much of each other’s lives that I’ll be damned if I’m not here for you now.”

Aramis smiled and hugged Isabelle as well. Her optimism was making him feel like he wasn’t so trapped in his current situation as he had felt before. He moved his lips as he often would when trying to say something, only to realise that he still couldn’t.

“Thank you.”

Aramis’ eyes widened. He looked up at Isabelle who was wearing an identical look of surprise on her face, which slowly morphed into a smile. Porthos, who had been passing the hallway to get to the kitchen, had stopped on his tracks, staring at Aramis.

Laughing disbelievingly, Isabelle covered her mouth with her hand. “I can’t believe this”, she whispered. Looking up at Porthos, she asked, “did you hear that?”

Aramis was still trying to form words, to speak, but no voice was coming through his throat. He was growing frustrated at himself for his inability to communicate like a normal person. When Porthos placed his hand on Aramis’ shoulder, they jolted up from the surprise.

“Hey”, Porthos whispered, “don’t try to force it. The words will come eventually.”

Aramis closed his mouth and nodded. He was still feeling shaken by the sudden ability to say one word and he would have given anything to be able to speak more. There were so many words he wanted to say, so many things he wanted to thank Porthos and Athos for.

Isabelle squeezed Aramis’ hands and said, “I’ll go now, but we’ll see each other soon. I’ll be just one text away, okay?”

With that, Isabelle was gone, and Porthos scooped Aramis into a bone-crushing hug. He was laughing somewhat tearfully as he spun around, holding Aramis as close as he could. Pressing a kiss on Aramis’ temple, he placed Aramis back down.

“God, I’ve missed your voice so much”, Porthos breathed. “I knew it was there somewhere. I _knew_ it!”

Aramis gave Porthos a melancholy smile and then pulled at his hand to lead him in the living room where Athos was reading a book. There was a hopeful spark in Aramis’ chest, thinking that maybe he could repeat the word again. Perhaps he could finally show Athos that there had been some progress after all. That Aramis had finally made some progress.

Touching Athos’ shoulder lightly, Aramis whispered, “thank you.”

Athos looked up and, after a moment’s confusion, leapt up to hug Aramis. He looked at Porthos, unable to find words to react to this sudden change. He could only hold Aramis as he tried to find the words he’d lost.

“How?” Athos whispered, pulling away to look at Aramis’ face. “You… _how_?”

Aramis shook his head, not knowing what had helped him to regain his voice. All he knew was that Isabelle’s optimism had given him more strength than he’d had before she’d entered his life once again. Perhaps it was simply the fact that there now were more people who believed in him and were ready to help him if he ever needed it. He picked up his notepad to write down the explanation.

As Athos read the note, Porthos picked Aramis up again and sat down on the sofa, bringing Aramis down on his lap. Aramis leaned against his chest, feeling exhausted by everything that happened during the day, and yawned before he could stop himself.

“This calls for a celebration”, Athos decided as he finished reading the note. “I’ll go get the chocolate Isabelle brought us. Sounds good?”

Aramis nodded, smiling, as Porthos kissed his temple.

He would be better, with the help of his family.

**Author's Note:**

> To note: The French word for 'Thank you' is _merci_ so technically Aramis only said one word!
> 
> Comments are cherished and loved!


End file.
